Playthings
by KeyPea
Summary: My take on what really happened after check-in during season 2, episode 11, 'Playthings'. Pure Wincest filth, you have been warned. Mature only, please.


Dean was right about the Pierpont Inn being a haunted house straight out of an episode of Scooby Doo. What he didn't need to mention was how much he loved Daphne, earning himself a small pinch on the arse from Sammy, who muttered "are you sure you didn't mean Fred?"

Sam trailed his fingers over the strange symbol on the flowerpot outside, and mused to Dean that the place seemed a little too "white meat" for hoodoo charms.  
"I know whose white meat I'd like to get strange with," Dean whispered, grinning wickedly as his dirty mouth made his brother groan out loud. The time for messing around was over though, as they stepped into the house. At least for now.

"Antiquing?" The owner, checking them in, asked curiously.  
"Uhhhh... yeah." The Winchester boys had been so busy winding each other up on the journey over that they'd failed to come up with a decent cover story. Antiquing seemed like the perfect excuse, so they went with it.

"You look like the type." She smiled. "King size bed?"

Dean was floored. As he desperately fished around in his brain for a response, Sam came to the rescue . "No no!" He told her quickly. "We're just... ummm... brothers. On a road trip."

"I'm so sorry!" The woman looked mortified, although as she turned away to get another key, Dean noticed the small smile on her face that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

Dean just couldn't let it go. "What did you mean, we look the type?" He asked, but Sammy elbowed him in the side, hard. "Never mind. Doesn't matter." He smiled, and the owner handed over the key to room 237, and called for an old man to show them up.

"Let me guess. Antiquers?" The old man said, as he took one of the bags. Sam and Dean exchanged a dark look, and followed him up to their room. Dean turned to close the door behind them and found the old man still standing there. "You're not going to cheap out on me are you, boy?"  
Dean sighed, and stuffed a couple of dollar bills into the man's hand to make him go away. Finally, they were in peace.

Sammy was already making himself at home, settling down in an old leather armchair and flipping through the file they'd got on the house. Dean took a glance around the room and snorted. "Look at the decoration in this place. Surprised it didn't shut down before now." He sank down onto one of the twin beds and kept on sinking, until his backside hit the rusty bedframe underneath. "Perhaps we should have gone for that king bed." He remarked.

"It's always you telling me we have to be careful, Dean."

"Yeah I know. Not like it mattered here. I swear they _knew_ downstairs."

"Well you are kinda butch. They probably think you're overcompensating." Sam lowered the folder slightly, a little glint in his eye."So what was that you were saying earlier about eating white meat?"

Dean didn't need telling twice. He was off the bed and on his knees in front of Sam's chair in a split second, and all thoughts of earlier teasing were lost as Dean pulled Sammy's face down for a kiss. The folder spilled its contents across the floor as Sam dropped it but neither of them bothered. Dean tried to remove Sammy's shirt without his lips breaking contact with his skin, but failed miserably. Dean grumbled and tore off the shirt, moving his lips across hot skin, down past Sammy's bellybutton until...

"Hard already, baby brother?"

Dean undid the button on Sammy's jeans and enjoyed the view of his cock pushing up, eager to be freed. Dean did not free it though, instead getting to his feet and letting his brother admire the view as he stripped off his own shirt, slowly enough to earn a growl of frustration from Sammy. "You love it." Dean bit his bottom lip seductively and opened his jeans button and fly as well, caressing the tip of his own erection through the fabric, but went no further.

"Now tell me what you want."

"Dean."

"Tell me what you want, Sammy."

"Get back down here."

Dean complied, leaning in as if he was going to meet Sam's lips again but instead swiping them across his collarbone. He felt Sam tremble, his own lips slightly parted, his warm breath tickling Dean's throat. This time Dean let the kiss happen, and Sammy's mouth was just as delicious as the last time he'd tasted it. "What do you want?" Dean murmured in his brother's mouth.

"You know what I want."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Dean..." He gasped as Dean started kissing his way downwards, but Sammy knew he wouldn't go further until he said it. "Touch it." He moaned. "Suck it, please!"

"Hips up then." Dean tapped Sam's hips so he'd raise them, and whipped off both his jeans and underwear in one smooth motion. He planted Sammy's naked ass back down in the chair and swung his brother's legs over his shoulders. "Better grab onto that leather, baby boy," Dean told him, then, keeping eye contact, opened his mouth and took Sammy's hard cock inside of it.

Sam moaned and instinctively gripped the side of the chair. "Oh god yes. You're so good at that." Dean was stroking Sam's cock with one hand as he sucked the tip, finding the sweet spot with his tongue that Sammy went wild for. His other hand dropped down to his open fly and stroked his own length, and he made a noise of appreciation in his throat that Sammy felt throughout his whole body.

"Are you going to scream for me, Sammy?" Dean purred, taking a break from the jaw action but keeping it up with both hands. "Let everyone in the hotel know that we don't need a king bed to have a good time?"

"Yes... but... oh god..." Sam could barely formulate words as Dean took his cock in his mouth again, taking in as much as he could. "Dean, I'm not gonna last if you keep this up."

"Come for me then, Sammy. I want to taste you when you blow your load in my mouth."

This was too much for Sam and he cried out as his hips jerked. Dean swallowed down every bittersweet drop and a heartbeat later reached his own climax, which exploded into the jeans he hadn't bothered taking off, and shifted the chair back an inch or two with the force of Dean's hips. He rested his head on Sam's legs as his brother relaxed his grip on the chair.

"Damn Dean, you weren't messing around, were you?"

"I never mess around when it comes to you, Sammy." He lifted his head up and they shared a tender kiss before Dean slipped Sam's legs off his shoulders and stood up, wincing at the fluid dribbling down his leg.

"Got some cleanup to attend to, then we should probably get back to work." He grinned. "Still Sammy, not a bad way to check in to a new place, was it?"


End file.
